The Gun

a true story by Russell Pinkston

Well I guess I can tell you the story of the pictures of Scott and I holding "the gun". It was back when Scott and I were attending school in Phoenix, AZ. We were roomates and our apartment overlooked the pool and the public telephone. One evening Scott overheard a woman crying loudly on the on the phone. Actually Scott couldn't hear the tv over the woman's sobbing. He would have probably ignored it and just turned the volume up but he also observed her bloody and ripped clothes. So being the hero that he was he headed down to the phone to talk to her and see if he could help her or see at least if she could keep it down. I followed along as "backup". Her belligerant husband soon showed up and quickly turned his rage on Scott and I. He warned us not to interfere and mind our own business. Scott informed him he would have but he couldn't hear his tv and didn't condone a guy beating up on a woman. Scott told the guy to leave her alone or else get his ass beat. The guy said that he would shoot us. (Us, ah...what there's no us...I am not with him...I just wanted to use the phone). So much for the back up. Before it could get ugly the police showed up. They took the guy away for public intoxication. The police was taking down our stories when the lady informed us and the police that indeed her husband really did have a gun. She took us to her apartment and in the closet in a space in the ceiling she showed the police the gun. That big beeping gun in the pictures. He also had a loaded clip that held 20 or so Winchester 308 rounds. The police let us hold the gun and even took the pictures for us. The cop even gave me the loaded clip which I still have today. Anyways the police and us convinced the lady to go to a battered woman's shelter before the guy got out the next day. About two weeks later we we sitting in our apartment with the front door open when the husband walked in...like he was IN our apartment.  He appear to be sober this time. We were just a bit nervous that he was actually standing in our living room. He asked us how we we doing (ah crapping our pants) and said he had just stopped by to say hello. He didn't stay long and it was a good thing because I don't think either one of us let out our breath till he was gone. What was that about? That was the last time we seen him and the last time coincidentally we left our apartment door open.